Tsunami
by Locked Heart Ami
Summary: Vital moments in the lives of the women of Final Fantasy Seven, all revolving around the motif of water. Chapter three features a hint of ScarlettxTseng.
1. Elena's Lucky Stars

Elena

*

                The water shifts like a restless warrior, a deep, violent blue like a cheap imitation of the night sky, the reflection of the stars dancing on the surf and the thrashing waves.

                Elena doesn't understand how a lake can look like this; she thought only oceans moved in that ruthless, dangerous manner. She _does_ understand why the Wutaians believe that there is a water god here. Only a deity could explain the savageness of the deep water, only a god could keep it from ceasing, from settling into a calm pond. _"Leviathan," _she whispers. It sounds like a curse.

                "Elena," says a voice.

                Elena spins, she though she was alone, she wants to be alone now.

                "What are you doing, Elle?"

                It's Reno, of course. It could only be Reno; he'd be the only one who'd interrupt her now, the only one either stupid or maybe smart enough to.

                "I'm not doing anything, go away."

                Someone had told Elena once that you couldn't tell someone's hair was red in the moonlight, it looked black, but Elena finds this isn't true. Reno comes and stands beside her, his hair flaming like the dormant sun. "Like hell you aren't doing anything."

                Elena doesn't reply. The wind continues to whip the frenzied water like a tortured slave, the stars are like wounds. Elena _feels_ tortured. "How'd you find me?"

                Reno shrugs. He has a cigarette in his hand, he flicks off the ashes, they drift downward and disappear in the waves. "We're both Turks, aren't we? I didn't know there _were _any lakes in Wutai, thought it was all the stupid barren desert." He raises the cigarette to his lips, then lowers it without breathing. "You weren't… you weren't going to jump, Elle, were you?"

                Elena looks down. Below the rocks where she stands, the water reminds her even more of an open wound. She'd have to be a lot braver to jump into that aquatic Hades. "No, of course not. Why would I jump?"

                Reno shrugs again and then throws down his cigarette, stamps on it. When he speaks, Elena can't tell whether it's his answer or if he's trying to change the subject. "It's been pretty hard on you. You really did… you know… _like _Tseng, didn't you." He says it just like that, doesn't end it like a question.

                Elena begins to turn away, decides she looks idiotic, turns to face Reno instead. "No. Just a silly crush, a schoolgirl thing. I'm surprised you even noticed."

                Reno doesn't look at her, gazes at the water instead. He doesn't look healthy, the moonlight is making him more pale, his scars look like they're still knife wounds that haven't healed over yet. "'Course I noticed." He smiles a little bit. "I'm not that stupid. Yet."

                Elena tries to laugh and doesn't succeed.

                "You don't have to lie to me, Elle."

                "Excuse me?" She knows perfectly well what he said.

                "It was more than 'schoolgirl'." He shrugs, smiles again, only very slightly. "I thought you were going to have a nervous breakdown after he asked you to dinner. Hell, I thought you'd loose it and cry all over your shrimp pasta."

                Elena looks down and away. She doesn't want to talk about this. Reno shouldn't make her talk about this. "Well, I never got the chance to prove that hypothesis, did I?"

                Reno lifts one thin arm up and around her shoulder. The movement is awkward, but the meaning sincere. He doesn't say anything.

                Elena wishes he'd say something.

                "Aeris Gainsborough died too. That Ancient." Says Reno.

                This was neither what Elena anticipated nor what she wants to hear. She stiffens instead, hunching her shoulders under Reno's touch. "Yes, I know Tseng liked her, don't bother to point it out, thanks."

                Reno shakes his head. "I wasn't going to. Anyway, that's irrelevant because our Ancient buddy was in love with Cloud, I hear from very reliable sources."

                "_What _sources, exactly?"

                "Very reliable ones. Anyway, I congress. Let's run through this. Who did Sepiroth kill?"  
                Elena feels hopeless but answers him anyway. "Tseng and Gainsborough."

                "Who was in love with them?"  
                "Cloud."

                "Cloud _and_?"

                Elena swallows hard. "Me."

                "Very good, very good, ten points. Now then, enough about you, let's focus on Cloud. Now, he was in love with Aeris, true or false?"

                "True, according to your 'sources', anyway."

                "Now, Aeris is dead, true or false?"

                "True."  
                "Now, let's take a brief overview. Sepiroth killed the woman Cloud loved. Cloud, naturally, was very depressed about all this, he was very sad indeed, he was no mood to continue his annoying little quest, he wanted to settle down somewhere and change his name to George the Fish and just wallow and feel sorry for himself."

                "And how do you know all this?"

                "My Very Reliable sources, how else?"

                Elena shakes her head.

                Reno continues. "Well, now, that's covered. Now, bonus question, what is Cloud doing at the moment? _A: _Changing his name to George the Fish and getting ready to wallow, or _B: _Screwing around in Wutai, working diligently on his little quest and annoying us during our vacation?"

                "B?"  
                "Dingdingding, twelve points! Now, what is the moral of this story?"

                Elena feels petulant. "Don't change your name to George the Fish, it'll cause bank problems?"

                "Don't get snarky with me, rookie. The moral of this story is that if someone you love dies, you don't go and feel sorry for yourself, you live with the knowledge that they're watching over everything you do and act accordingly!" Reno nods and drops his arm back to his side. "That is the moral of the story."

                Elena doesn't reply, she peers at the lake again. The water is beginning to calm a little bit as the wind subsides, the stars look like sequins on a piece of dark blue silk. Or maybe some silver coins scattered over the back of a Turk uniform.

                Reno begins to leave.

                "Hey!" calls Elena irritably. "Where are you going?"

                "Back to the Turtle's Paradise," replies Reno. "I feel like getting drunk." He looks Elena in the eyes, turquoise striking topaz. "Are you going to come with me?"

                "I…."

                "Tseng probably would have wanted you to," adds Reno casually.

                Elena looks at the lake, then back at her colleague.

                There is a silence, heavy as velvet in the misty night air. Reno starts to walk away again.

                "Wait!" cries Elena. Reno grins and begins to speed up.

                "You moron!" says Elena, scolding him with laughter in his voice. "Wait for me, I said!" she catches up to him, and they walk away together, the forest finally hiding them from view.

                On the surface of the now-calm water, you can see the reflection of a shooting star.


	2. The Pride of a Water God

Yuffie

*

The raging river has been sacred to the WuTaians since ancient times. It started its never- ceasing journey to the sea before even life began, the wise ones say, and Leviathan itself swims under the whirling and foam-strewn surface. They say it was Leviathan who created life- first his counterpart Da- Chao, then the people of Gaia- from its frothing waves, from the bubbling depths, which even now are WuTai's very soul. The people of WuTai treat it with the respect given to an angry adder and the love destined for a newborn child. Leviathan's river is more holy than life itself.

            Crown Princess of WuTai, Yuffie Kisaragi, six hundredth in the line of Shinobi ninja and official treasure of WuTai- protected by Leviathan and Da- Chao themselves, you know- leans forward and spits into the rushing water.

            She straightens back up, wiping her mouth with the back of a slender, pale hand. "Leviathan. Feh. Holy. Hah. Noble. What a joke!" she shakes her head, blowing a strand of dark hair away from her face, her voice as bitter as a winter wind. "Some god you turned out to be, Leviathan. Your priceless WuTai is a laughingstock."

            She begins to turn away, then suddenly spins back. "You're probably dead by now. Hah, hah, how funny! I bet my highly intelligent ancestors had us worshipping a common sea snake! Oh, gods, that would be so amusing!"  
            There is silence except for the rushing river.

            "Not." Adds Yuffie.

            She squints at the water, the white- hot rays of sun a little bit blinding. "Hell, yeah. When was the last time someone saw you, not-god? A thousand years ago? More? Oh, definitely more. Well, it's not like you care anymore." She shakes her head, more brown hair falls over her eyes; she doesn't attempt to push it back. "Yeah, why would you care anymore?"

            She nods, not realizing her hands are clenched, her lips pressed together in an ill-contained fury towards this silent patron. "Well, guess what, Leviathan! Your precious WuTai? The one the ancestors swore you would save in times of trouble, the one my dear old daddy promised me would always be protected? You're a little late on the ball, buddy, take a look at you sacred WuTai now. It's a _joke_! A _resort town_!" She shakes her head violently. "Our inns are staffed by your sacred samurai, Leviathan. The geisha work at brothels." She raises her hands, anger unleashed. "I wouldn't be surprised if by tomorrow the Pagoda is finally a tourist attraction! Yeah, it's gonna have to be soon, isn't it? After all, you never did protect us, this must be what you want, 'Mighty Sea Dragon God'! Godsdamnit, Leviathan, ANSWER ME!"

            She stops speaking.

            The river rushes.

            The sun shines.

            A frog hops over her foot and into the water.

            There is no answer.

            "Damn," says Yuffie quietly, so softly you can't hear it over the watercourse, and begins to walk away.

            :YUFFIE KISARAGI.:

            She stops, stiffens to an almost corpse-like state, and turns back.

            :YOU CALLED ME, PRINCESS OF MY WUTAI?:

            The river begins to swell like a kettle full of boiling water. Slowly but surely, the waves stop rushing out towards the Gaian sea and begin to flow straight upwards, creating a pillar of raging river water in front of the ninja princess.

            Something is happening now, something is truly happening, Yuffie is terrified.

            :I AM HERE.:

            The voice is powerful as the rushing river and louder than even a raging waterfall, and as suddenly as was formed, the water falls back down into the river. In its place is Leviathan, huge, powerful, sunlight glinting on its dewy scales and reflected back into Yuffie's eyes as it flips, using its tiny fins and flippers as wings to stay in the sky before Kisaragi. Leviathan's golden eyes remain locked on the princess' own as she drops to her knees in submission and fear, trembling like a poplar in the bitter cold WuTai winter, pale as the white and shining winter moon. When she speaks, it is not with the cocky tone of a girl screaming a challenge at her deity. "Oh, god, kill me now."

            There is a long silence.

            :WHY?:

            She shakes her head, still petrified, still shivering. "I have dishonored you, great lord of my ancestors. I have dishonored the Shinobi. I entreat you to punish me, Lord Leviathan, and I swear I am sorry."

            :GET UP.:

            Yuffie doesn't move.

            :STAND _UP_!:

            Shaking all the harder, she pushes herself off the ground and stands, so afraid that she's hardly able to keep her grip on her shruiken.

            :STOP TREMBLING, PRINCESS. SAVE THAT FOR THOSE WHO WOULD TRULY HURT YOU. YOU'LL FIND ENOUGH OF THEM IN THE WORLD IF YOU LOOK.:

            Yuffie stops, slowly, staring steadfastly at the ground and clenching her hands together as though the wind could blow her away if she didn't have at least that anchor.

            :I WILL NOT KILL YOU. YOU ARE BOTH A CHILD AND ONE OF MY SACRED SHINOBI. I WOULD SOONER KILL MYSELF.  BUT THEN…: Yuffie thinks she can almost detect ironic amusement in his tone. :YOU SEEM TO THINK I AM ALREADY DEAD?:

            The girl drops back to her knees. "I am sorry, lord!"

            :_STAND_! THE WUTAIANS KNEEL BEFORE NO ONE! NOT EVEN BEFORE GOD!:

            Yuffie jumps back up. "Yes, Lord Leviathan!"

            :YUFFIE.: Yuffie wouldn't have believed that the aquatic deity's voice could become at all gentle if she hadn't heard it, but Leviathan's voice became quieter and he lowered his head slightly, getting closer to her. :YOU CALLED ME, PRINCESS OF MY WUTAI. NOW SPEAK WITHOUT FEAR.:

            Yuffie takes a deep breath, then exhales slowly, the summer breeze catching her tiny sigh and carrying it along to places far away.

            Leviathan waits.

            Finally Yuffie straightens and looks the deity in the eye. She is neither a youthful heretic nor a frightened child anymore. She is every inch Princess of the Shinobi. "Lord Leviathan, listen to the words of your princess!"

            Leviathan seems to almost smile. :I LISTEN, PRINCESS OF MY WUTAI.:

            "Your WuTai, my lord, has fallen. For three years now your sacred ninja have labored under the cursed ShinRa. Three years ago the damned ShinRa and their demonic General Sepiroth defeated us in battle, and since then the Shinobi and their great land have been trapped in the cage that the war and the barbarians wove for us. My father, King Godo of the Kisaragi line, dares to allow this atrocity." Yuffie bows her head, not out of fear but true respect. "I am Yuffie Kisaragi, Crown Princess of WuTai, six hundredth descendant of the Shinobi. Great Lord Leviathan, I entreat you to come to your WuTai's aid!"

            :PRINCESS YUFFIE.:

            She lifts her chin again and looks her god in the eye. "Yes, Lord Leviathan."

            :I ALSO ENTREAT YOU, PRINCESS. I ENTREAT YOU TO REALIZE I HAVE NOT ABANDONED MY WUTAI AND MY SHINOBI, AND NEVER WILL. I WILL CRUSH THE SHINRA LIKE A FALLEN STAR. AND I WILL DO SO WITH YOUR HELP, YUFFIE, IF YOU AGREE. BUT IT WILL NOT BE EASY.:

            Yuffie smiles, the proud smile of a princess and a warrior. "The more difficult the task, great Lord Leviathan, the more eager I am to help you."

            :YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH, PRINCESS OF THE SHINOBI, FOR I CAN SEE YOUR VERY HEART. YOU ARE NOT BEAUTIFUL, PRINCESS OF MY SHINOBI. YOU ARE NOT GRACEFUL. BUT YOU HAVE YOUR FATHER'S HOT BLOOD AND THE PROUD SPIRIT OF LEVIATHAN'S NINJAS.:

            "My lord, I must speak," says Yuffie desperately. "My father is a coward and a fool. He does not drive out the ShinRa. He did not stop WuTai's fall. If he-"

            :_YUFFIE!_ ENOUGH. YOUR FATHER DOES RIGHT, YUFFIE, HE IS A KING AS YOU ARE A PRINCESS. YOU WILL LEARN THAT IN TIME, YUFFIE, THAT I PROMISE YOU. BUT THAT IS NOT YOUR CONCERN RIGHT NOW, PRINCESS OF THE SHINOBI. RIGHT NOW I MAKE YOU A PROMISE. YOU ASK ME TO SAVE OUR WUTAI?:

            "I beg it, Lord Leviathan."

            :THEN DO SO!:

            "W-what? Lord Leviathan, I asked that _you-_"

            :I WILL DO IT, PRINCESS OF THE SHINOBI, BUT I WILL DO IT THROUGH YOU! WILL YOU HELP SAVE YOUR WUTAI?:

            "Of course, my lord!"  
            :THEN TAKE YOU SHRUIKEN, YUFFIE KISARAGI, WEAR THE CREST OF LEVIATHAN AND BE AVATAR OF THE PROUD SHINOBI! YOU MUST LEAVE WUTAI AND FIGHT WITH THOSE YOU WOULD CONSIDER FOES, FIGHT AGAINST THE SHINRA WHO HAVE ENSLAVED YOUR NOBLE RACE! BUT AT THE SAME TIME, YUFFIE, YOU MUST USE THE CUNNING OF YOUR NINJA HERITAGE. YOU CANNOT BE ABOVE BLOOD AND SHEDDING IT, YUFFIE. YOU CANNOT BE ABOVE TAKING WHAT SHOULD NOT BE YOURS. THESE ARE THE ONLY WAYS YOU CAN SAVE YOUR HOMELAND, FOR PROUD AS YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE MAY BE, THERE COMES A TIME FOR ALL TO BE HUMBLED. 

BUT THIS IS NOT A COMMAND, YUFFIE, YOU ARE FREE TO REMAIN IF YOU CHOOSE. IF I MUST, PRINCESS OF MY SHINOBI, I WILL FIND ANOTHER.:

"No, Lord Leviathan!" Yuffie yells, the pride and joy of her people and her land coursing through her veins, her fingers tingling and her will as strong as Leviathan's own. "I welcome this challenge, the quest of saving the spirit of the Shinobi ninja, and the journey to fight for my great WuTai! I swear to you, the Shinobi will not be defeated, Lord Leviathan! I am Yuffie Kisaragi, Crown Princess of WuTai and six hundredth Shinobi ninja, and I accept this task!"

:THEN GO, PRINCESS OF MY SHINOBI. GO AND SAVE MY PEOPLE AND KNOW THAT LEVIATHAN IS WITH YOU.:

And Yuffie goes, her heart full of fire and her soul full of Leviathan's light, as Leviathan sinks into the holy river once again.


	3. Gin

On the day Scarlett started in Shin-Ra's employment, she was eighteen years old and a very different woman. Wearing a cocktail dress to your day job is something one must work up to, after all; it did not come naturally; and the truth is, for all Scarlett's more modern efforts to hide the fact, that at the time she had been less Whore Of Babylon and more Little Red Riding Hood.

On that day, little Red met her first wolf.

President Shin-Ra's penthouse soiree. His little boy Rufus' birthday- six years old- is the occasion; or to be more accurate, the excuse. For Rufus is nowhere in attendance, as no well-attended child would be, for there is a multitude scattered across the motley of scarlet carpeting, drinking gin and praising folly. A skeletal piano player systematically collapses over his instrument at regular intervals, and the sounds in the air under the hum of conversation indicate he draws pure magic from the ivories, bone on bone.

Scarlett has never had a drink before, and will refuse all offers of alcohol until President Shinra- in passing- tells her pointedly that she is off the clock and ought to enjoy herself, the inference being that he will not be impressed if she doesn't. Heidigger catches this and, with an amused horse laugh, shoves her a tall glass of gin. Unmixed, on the rocks as they say. Scarlett shoots Heidigger a look of disgust- she bought this red dress, with its crushed-crimson velvet and slitted side and smell of luxury, only the day before, and he's wasted no time trying to get it off of her again. She withdraws to sit on the fountain, and carefully takes a sip.

Gin tastes like- pine. Unmixed, and Scarlett is unused to it, and it burns like lava as it slides satin-smooth down her stomach to her hips. There is a forest fire lodged in her throat. It tantalizes. She drinks again, sucking on an ice cube when her tongue can take no more.

Gin makes Scarlett feel powerful. She sits quietly, examining the feeling almost clinically. The crippling shyness that had cultivated a wallflower mere seconds ago suddenly seems a choice, not a shackle. She is sphinxlike, sitting by herself in this corner on the white-marble arm of the blue-neon lit fountain, watching and making judgement on the revelers as the water panders drowning in her ears.

She drinks gin and sits there the whole night, legs crossed in a way she will only later realize is artlessly seductive. She draws conclusions like a heretic and an artist. Palmer is a weak, self-serving fool who will go to fat the second he turns thirty. Hojo has no grasp on either social standards or social conventions and is only tolerated because his expertise is required. She was right about Heidigger, who Panlike chases all legs emerging from skirts, only to have them turn to bushes, flowers, constellations at the last possible second. Scarlett smiles, sips her ignition. Wonders why these things did not seem immediately obvious to her, why all through the day she had tried so hard to please.

The party like a music box begins to wind down to a close, one, two, three in the morning, and one-by-one the attendees follow Cinderella home. Scarlett continues to oraculate silently off the side of the fountain, uninterested in leaving when she feels divine. She stares off at the now mostly-empty room; sad, tattered confetti scattered across the scarlet floor, one of the maids has brought out a vacuum. Broken glass, in places. The reaper-like pianist gathers the sickle of his songbook.

Scarlett sighs and knows it is only a matter of time. She stares into the blue lights wavering beneath the waves of the pool that form the fountain's base, underneath a cascade of false whitewaters. She knows she will have to leave soon, and despises it. Today before the party she had been petrified, hadn't known how to insinuate herself- a little girl lost- into the grand cogs of the machinery that was Shin-Ra and that seemed to run quite well without her and her plans for her "Sister Ray". Very nice, Heidigger had told her condescendingly, as though she was a toddler who had thought up something clever. She was afraid that, when she left and was away from the magic of the music and gin and the arm of the fountain, the memory would cease to be amusing and become merely embarrassing and painful again.

When she looks back up, sighing, there is somebody in front of her.

She nearly upsets her gin in surprise, and feels herself flushing, embarrassed and annoyed. Tseng. Even in her sphinx pose, alcohol-powerful, she had no easy condemnation or dismissal for this snakelike and enigmatic new head of the Turks. He wasn't a day older than she, and yet he astonishes her. His long silences, his black gazes which had pierce her like glass shrapnel, frighten her. She knows this is his job and yet even this morning, she had wondered how she could ever work with the man daily without an eventual and inevitable heart attack from the stress.

And to her astonishment, he speaks first. "Everyone is gone," he intones, which seems to infer that the quiet maids who have begun to clean are not people.

"I didn't want to go," she says, "I was having fun," and realizes how ridiculous it sounds for she has been sitting here watching the entire night. Yet the truth is she has enjoyed herself.

"The most lovely woman should never be the last to leave," Tseng says, black eyes boring into her, and she is shocked. Has she heard this wicked man, this master of interrogation and wetworks, correctly? Is he flirting with her? The waterworks of the fountain hiss a disbelief. "I'm Tseng," he tells her, when she still find she cannot speak, and he regards her over the vodka-haze of his martini after taking a sip. "And may I have your name?"

"I'm Scarlett," she offers meekly, and yet they were introduced that morning. "Surely you-" she begins, then stops. Suddenly she is tired of the little girl voice, the 'surely', the 'having fun'. Such phrases and intonations do not belong here; this is a gathering of adults. "We met this morning," she begins again, and is pleased enough to doubt it's the gin when her voice sounds, to her, throaty and appealing. "Scarlett Woolf. I'm the new intern in Weapons Development."

Tseng regards her blankly for a moment. Then his eyes widen. "Miss Woolf." He begins, and has to stop. "I'm sorry," he says at length. "I didn't recognize you. You look… stunning."

Scarlett, too, doesn't recognize the look in his eyes. And yet she almost wonders. Could it be? Could any man?... She stands, and notices in a mild disbelief that nonetheless confirms her hypothesis that his eyes trail up her legs like a paper chase.

I'll fold him down, she suddenly decides in the gin-fog, this man who tried to scare me this morning. I'll show him who's who. Shoot him down like a soldier.

Previously she had examined her own unknown beauty; now Scarlett exploits it. She positions one leg so it peeks from the slit of the dress. "I wouldn't have known," she pouts, and the gin lends her words power and key. "From the way I sat here all night. Not one offer to dance."

"I'll dance with you," Tseng says, and suddenly Scarlett wants this shared seduction to stop. For the little-girl-lost she is sure to be it has already become too much. But Tseng reached down and grasps her around the waist and forcibly places her in front of him, iron hands moving her into grace, and they slowly rotate to the sound of-

"There's no music," Scarlett said.

Tseng stops as though he has not been aware. "You're quite right," he replies evenly, very seriously. "But there's a stereo in my apartment. If it's of vital importance that we dance- and I assure you that it is- we can use that."

They went to his apartment and stayed there until the morning.

But, somehow, they never would up using that stereo. And most of their activity was horizontal.

From that day on Tseng couldn't look her in the eye. And from that day on she wore that red dress to work. She took great pains as she grew older to keep in fitting perfectly.

Scarlett had found power. And knew how to use it.

She shot him down like a soldier.


End file.
